Bowing Out Gracefully
by CMW2
Summary: SEASON 4 FIC: After Mary returns home, she finds an unpleasant surprise. But never fear...all hope is not lost for our heroes. Read on and you'll see- Spoilers for the season 3 finale;Marshall/OC,Implied Mary/Marshall; 28th in my 2010 SSS Project


**Author's Note: Dude, I just read that we get an IPS renewal! Special Thanks to RJ Lupin's Kat for that kickass news and here's hoping that the TV Powers that Be don't change their minds. **

**I know that I said that I would write a Marshall Rage fic and that Thundercat is still a go but this idea seized me and wouldn't let me go until I started writing. It's still an oneshot but it's different than my usual M&M. For one thing, there's no sex, hence the T rating and for another, I actually put Marshall with someone else. It's necessary to the plot and I leave it on a hopeful note so I hope that'll balance out the sin.**

**ADVERTISEMENT: I need a little help with the Rage fic because in order to do it, I have to take Marshall all the way out of character and then bring him back and I totally suck at that (believe me, I've tried) so I am sending out the Bat Signal for a Beta. If you want M&M together and if you're up to the dubious honor of seeing my work in the embryonic stages and have a sick, dirty mind like me, drop me a PM or an email and we'll get something started. I'll pay you via a smutty oneshot of a couple in a fandom of your choice.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

She couldn't stand her.

She was too quiet, too gentle, and too damn pretty. US Marshal Naomi Kingston had been the replacement partner assigned to ABQ while she was on her 3 month hiatus. She was also her partner's girlfriend and it looked like she wasn't going to relinquish that title anytime soon. Of all things Mary Shannon had expected from Marshall Mann when she came home (the silent treatment, dubious understanding, a huge yelling match that would turn into something else…), a girlfriend was at the bottom of the list. Hell, it wasn't even _**on**_ the list.

It made Mary sick to the stomach with anger, jealousy, and regret. Deep, self flagellating regret because she knew damn well if she had just done the_** right**_ thing instead of the _**stupid**_ thing, Mary would be in Naomi's position instead of miserably alone as always. Faber had been a mistake, a fling that died on the beaches of Cancun and just the thing she needed to take her head out of her ass when it came to Marshall. He loved her and damn it, she loved him too. There was no fighting it anymore and she didn't want to…

It just figured that he'd go off and find an absolutely fucking perfect girlfriend just when Mary decided to wake up and smell the gunpowder.

Naomi was so competent in her office duties that she made the pod person that was Eleanor Prince look like a 5 year old playing dress up.

Strike one: She was genuinely sweet and had the patience of Mother Teresa.

She handled Stan, Doofus and witnesses with the grace of a dancer and could face Mary at her meanest with barely a blink. Mary had taken to making the woman's life hell but she barely responded and she didn't even yell! All she did was reply honestly to her prying, accusing questions and roll with each little attack on her property. She had gone and gotten a beanbag chair out of her Beetle after Mary had taken the screws out of her chair and she thanked her, _**thanked her**_ when she crazy glued her keyboard to her desk. Now, it wouldn't fall off and hit her feet like it tended to, making her manicure last longer. She had even made earrings out of the inflated condoms that she had put in her desk drawer, wearing them until Stan laughingly ordered her to take them off.

Strike two: She was absolutely supermodel pretty.

If Mary wasn't strictly dickley (and if she wasn't fucking her Doofus), she'd definitely consider getting it on with her. Flawless dark chocolate skin, big Bambi like brown eyes, and she had a mane of glorious thick as rope and soft as silk black waves. She was 5'9 but trim with lush curves. She was one of those women who could wear a burlap sack and still get on the cover of Maxim. When she had to change her shirt outside the Diner after Mary had "accidentally" gotten ketchup on it, she had gotten five guys numbers but she threw them away immediately, taking Marshall's hand like the quintessential devoted girlfriend.

And that led to Strike three: She made pie. She didn't buy it. She made it and it could make Gandhi jizz in his pants and the little hair that Stan had left stand up on end.

And with that, Mary was out. She couldn't compete with that and when Mary couldn't compete, she got mad and when Mary got mad, she got absolutely nasty, sending everything tumbling into the abyss.

Marshall had finally yelled at her that morning, she had made the witness (and her kids) bawl like infants in the afternoon, and Stan had slammed her with every piece of paperwork he could find as punishment in the late afternoon. She needed to have it all done by 8AM sharp on Monday or she'd be "first in line at the Unemployment office".

And so, at 8:35 on a Friday night, Mary Shannon was alone in the dark WitSec bullpen, literally up to her tits in forms and trying valiantly not to cry. Everyone she knew was happier than she was, even her fucked up family.

Jinx had gotten a job at a large studio in San Francisco and she had moved out there with her fellow instructors. She was "deliriously happy" and stone cold sober. The very idea of taking a drink "made her ill." She had finally grown up, as had Brandi.

She and Peter were thriving and she was in school to become a nurse instead of a massage therapist. Her term papers were on the fridge, 90%, 98%, 89%, 100%... Squish was kicking ass and taking names and happy. Squish was _**happy **_because she had scrapped together enough emotional stability to get the life that she wanted and needed.

Mary was miserable and what made the misery worse was that this time, she couldn't pin it on anyone or anything but herself. Before she could always deflect or lean on Marshall to make it better but not anymore. Marshall had put himself out there and she had bitten him one too many times, making him give up on her. "Wash his hands of her" as he had put it earlier. She lost her best friend and the man she loved and it was…all…her…_**fault!**_

The enormity of that hurt more than that damned bullet in her gut.

First one tear, then another and another dripped onto her jeans and soon, she found herself sobbing on the floor like a baby. After a while, she felt arms close around her and she heard Naomi's gentle, southern belle accent penetrate her fog.

"It's all right, sugar…it's all right…"

Even though she still hated (envied) Naomi fiercely, she couldn't help but believe her.

_**/**_

"Marshall and I aren't together anymore."

Naomi could practically feel the shock and hope that Mary felt as she ate the lasagna and pie that she had brought her. While she understood where both Marshall and Stan were coming from and while she could very firmly agree that Mary had been a raging, psycho bitch, she could also see beyond the rage to the hurt. Simply put, Mary was hurt because it seemed that Marshall didn't want her anymore and had moved on, abandoning her.

"Why? You two have an argument on whether Picard or Kirk's cooler?" she sniped before taking a big bite out the apple filled pastry.

"I prefer Captain Sisko, actually and the reason that we broke up is the same reason that you've been a cow to me and everyone else since you came home."

"Perpetual PMS?"

Naomi rolled her eyes and sat further on her beanbag, glaring at the blonde impassively.

"Mary, you love Marshall and even though it's against his better judgment and logic, Marshall loves you too. I ended it so you two could quit being stupid and just be together. He feels awful for earlier, you know."

"He shouldn't. I deserve every bit of hatred he's got in his Cowboy heart." Mary said with the same bitter sadness that her cries (wails, actually) reflected.

"Marshall doesn't hate you. He just doesn't want to get hurt by you, anymore. What you did with Faber damn near broke him. Hell, it _**did**_ break him. When he found out, he got stinkin' drunk and I had to keep him from transferring or jumping off the roof. After he sobered up, he told me everything about you two. Believe me when I tell you that the man is _**incapable**_ of hating you. He's tried."

Minutes ticked by and then:

"I don't deserve him."

Naomi nodded in agreement and took a sip of the brandy she kept in the bottom file cabinet.

"No one does. That man is special and I don't mean in the Forrest Gump way. He is a genuinely caring, quality human being. DNA and God broke the mold when they came up with Marshall Jeremiah and the only woman who truly deserves him is an angel. But, he _**wants **_you. He needs you and he fucking loves you with all his Cowboy heart, as you put it. Now, I've bowed out but if you don't pull yourself together and make this right, I'm going to whup your bitchy, white girl ass. I'm from the South, I know how and _**Lord**_, do you deserve it."

Mary laughed a little and stood up, grabbing her keys and she looked at her beseechingly…

"Go to him. He's at home in front of _**The 40 Year Virgin**_ and probably crying by now. Go and make it better. Talk to him, beg him, fuck him, I don't care…just make it right, Mary. You won't regret it.", Naomi insisted. "Never mind the paperwork. I'll handle it and Stanley on Monday. Now, scoot. Go get your _**Mann**_."

"You…I…thank you."

"The way you can thank me is to go to Marshall and stay with him."

Mary nodded and hurried out, making Naomi smile and laugh to herself at her successful matchmaking.

She should be nominated for sainthood. Or the Nobel Prize…

Never mind. She'd just settle on an invitation to the wedding.


End file.
